Gohatto
by Tomoe2
Summary: A chance encounter on matsuri night leads to the unraveling of Saito Hajime's deepest secret. How will the Kenshin-gumi react to the revelation?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Fuwa

Sanosuke sniggered. He'd never seen Saito in anything but his police uniform. He looked completely different in a yukata. Somehow, it didn't fit with Sanosuke image of him. He observed the policeman as he purchased yakitori at a nearby stand. He hesitated a moment, debating whether he should go chat him up. Suddenly, another man with soft features walked up to him, fanning himself with an uchiwa. Sanosuke frowned, intrigued. The other man definitely wasn't police. He felt a sharp pain.

"Oi! I'm not your dad," he chided Kenji, sitting on his shoulders and pulling on his hair.

The boy pointed a pond with goldfish a few paces away from Saito and his companion.

"Let's go find a nice fish!"

Sanosuke grabbed Kenji and held him upside down for a moment. The boy squealed and laughed. He set him down and followed him to the pond. He observed the pair as they ate their food. Sanosuke felt like he'd seen the other man somewhere but couldn't quite place him.

"Excuse me, sir?"

He turned to face the owner of the fish stand. The man held out a wooden bassin with ten fish in it.

"If he keeps at it I will be out of business, sir," said the man, eyeing Kenji with concern.

"You caught all these?"

The boy nodded, a broad smile on his face. Sanosuke shook his head. This kid never failed to impress him. He apologised to the vendor and told him to put the fish back in the pond. He expected Kenji to protest but he was already running towards Megumi, the fish all but forgotten. He caught up with them as the woman picked the boy up. It was a miracle Kenji could walk at all; he rarely spent more than a few moments on the ground.

"Where is everyone else?" he asked.

"Kenshin is busy winning every prize Kaoru wants. Yahiko and Tsubame disappeared a while back, to do you know what the gods know where."

She grinned. He gave her a knowing smile then turned around. He could still just about see Saito and his strange friend.

"Take care of Kenji for a moment, will you? I'll meet up with you at Akabeko like we agreed if I can't find you."

"Wait! Sano, where…" she asked, but he was already out of earshot.

Sanosuke followed the two men at a distance for a while, stopping when they did. Saito towered over his gracile companion. Although both slender, Saito was wiry while the other man was sylphlike. Each of his movement looked as though it had been rehearsed a million time yet had the natural grace of an afterthought. They walked side by side, chatting and commenting on the yatai around them. The other man held a temari at the end of a string and distractedly bounced it up and down.

He lost them when they turned a corner. He hurried up and peeked around the building. Two hands grabbed the front of his yukata and pulled him in the darkness of the alleyway. He found himself inches away from Saito's face.

"Is something the matter, chicken boy?"

Sanosuke grinned, undeterred, and looked around.

"Where's your friend?"

Saito tightened his grip.

"Either you stop following me or you learn better techniques."

He released the man. Sanosuke staggered upright and rearranged his clothes.

"There, there. That's a touchy subject isn't it?"

Saito smoothed his hair before pulling a cigarette out of his sleeve. The match lit the space between them for a second.

"You should go," said the wolf, back to his usual calm self.

Sanosuke had half a mind to taunt the man again but something he'd seen in Saito's eyes in the light of the match stopped him.

"Sure. Evenin', officer."

He walked away. In the alley, Saito leaned against the wall and sighed. He took a drag then raised his hand in front of him. The fast fading red ember of his cigarette trembled in the darkness.

xxxxxx

The Kenshin-gumi walked by the canal. The last echoes of the matsuri could be heard in the distance. Ahead of the group, Kenshin carried a sleeping Kenji in his arms. From time to time, the wind would carry the father's soft singing voice to the rest of them. Kaoru, taking this rare occasion to get drunk, walked supported by Tsubame and Yahiko who had to steer her clear of the canal a few times. Megumi and Sanosuke brought the rear. He could feel her discreetly holding on to his sleeve.

"Kaoru has gone to town tonight, hasn't she?" he remarked.

She nodded.

"Ken-san is going through a rough patch. She needed some relief from all of it."

He knew, of course. They all did. Kenshin managed to keep most of his pain hidden, but they were no fools. Although they never acknowledged it directly, they did their best to help him and Kaoru get through those difficult periods.

"Where did you go earlier, anyway?" she inquired, steering the conversation away from this dark topic.

"I followed Saito. He was with a man I had never seen. I was curious…"

"Seems you closely avoided a good beating," she chuckled.

He knit his eyebrows.

"How do you know?"

There was no point lying to her, she always found the truth. Megumi's hand went from his sleeve to his collar. His initial shiver soon turned into a wince when she touched the tender skin of his neck.

"You have a strange red patch here. Wondered why…" She smiled.

Her hand lingered on his neck. He glanced at the others; they were far ahead. Seizing the opportunity, he bent down and kissed her on the lips. She cupped the back of his head and deepened the kiss. A nice, if surprising gesture. She broke the kiss and took a few steps ahead of him without looking back.

"That man with Saito was Ishikagi Uchisada. He's a very famous kabuki onnagata."

Sanosuke suddenly remember the posters he'd seen in town. He caught up with her.

"You saw them, too?"

She turned to face him.

"I spoke with them."

She winked. He shook his head. Ahead of them Kaoru stumbled, almost taking the two youngsters down with her. Megumi ran up to them to help. Sanosuke remained behind. What was Saito doing with an actor?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Fudo

Yahiko and Tsubame sat on the edge of the engawa, whispering to each other in the warmth of the late August evening. In the common room, Sanosuke, Megumi and Kaoru chatted in hushed tone now that Kenji had finally fallen asleep. The boy had been fussy all evening and even now, in his strawberry fueled dreams, his little brow was knit in a frown. Megumi poured some sake to her companions. Sanosuke drank. Kaoru turned her ochoko in her hands nervously.

"I don't understand. This never happened before Kenji…" she said.

Megumi shook her head.

"You don't know that," she replied. "I've seen you sleep before Kenji came alone. A canon wouldn't have woken you up."

The mother smiled in spite of herself.

"I just worry… I… I don't know what to do…"

He eyes filled with tears. She drank her sake in one gulp and wiped her eyes.

"Kenshin has seen and done things we can never even begin to understand or imagine, Jo-chan. There is nothing we can do about it…" said Sanosuke.

He poured Kaoru some sake. Kenji shifted on his mother's lap. Suddenly, a heavy banging broke the silence of their quiet reflection.

"Are we expecting someone?" asked Megumi.

Kaoru shook her head.

"I'll go," said Sanosuke. "Yahiko?" The tall man gestured with his head. Yahiko nodded.

The two men walked to the door, Megumi and Tsubame not far in tow. Kaoru followed a moment after, Kenji still asleep in her arms.

The insistent banging continued.

"Himura! Open up!" said the voice on the other side.

Sanosuke turned to Yahiko a puzzled expression on his face.

"Saito Haijme?" mouthed the younger man.

Sanosuke shrugged.

"Himura! Please, open!" The voice had a growing urgency to it.

Sanosuke turned to Kaoru, an eyebrow raised. She nodded. He opened the door.

With a fist raised in the air, disheveled hair and a sheen of sweat covering his face Saito stood in the doorway dressed in a yukata. He grabbed Sanosuke by the collar.

"That foxy doctor, is she here?"

"Yes, yes. She's here. What's so urgent?" asked the man, startled.

Megumi stepped forward. Saito grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out on the landing.

"Please, I'll explain later. You have to help."

Only then did the group notice the carriage stopped a few meters a way, its door opened. Saito half dragged Megumi to the vehicle as the group followed behind.

"Please help," said the police officer in a voice the doctor didn't know him. She peeked inside the overture and saw the figure of a man doubled over. She climbed aboard and auscultated him. He was feverish, his skin clammy with sweat. His yukata was covered in sick. This man needed immediate care. She turned back to Saito.

"This man needs to be taken to a hospital right now!"

The police officer, standing by the door of the carriage, shook his head.

"We can't. Please. It has to be here."

She reluctantly jumped out, unwilling to leave her patient alone but unable to reason with Saito from her current position.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm telling you I don't have what I need to help."

"Then find a way!" yelled Saito, grabbing her by the shoulders.

The whole group started. Sanosuke quickly pushed him off and stood between Megumi and his assailant. The policeman stepped back and lifted his hands in front of him, palms offered.

"Apologies," he said in a breathy voice. He leaned sideways to see Megumi behind Sanosuke. "I know I have no right to ask for favors but I need you to do this. He was doing fine then suddenly started to get pain on the lower right side of his abdomen. It's only getting worse. Tell me what you need and I will fetch it."

Megumi bit her lower lip. She looked down, covered her eyes with her hand then shook her head. She stepped away from Sanosuke.

"Sanosuke, help that man inside."

"You can't be serious..." he protested. She gave him a sharp look. He nodded, defeated.

As they were helping the man out of the carriage she turned to Saito.

"I need you to fetch Murata-Sensei. Tell him to bring his surgery apparatus. Hurry!"

She gave him his address. Saito nodded, and with one last look the the man being carried inside, he gave instructions to the driver and was on his way.

"Tsubame, I need you to grab my bag, you know the one?"

She nodded and was on her way.

"Where should I take him?" asked the Sanosuke.

"Kaoru? Can I borrow the dojo?"

The woman nodded as she handed Kenji to Yahiko.

"How can I help?" she was already taking a string out to tie her sleeve.

"Grab some clean linen. And hot water. Meet me in the dojo. " She turned to the tall man. Now Sanosuke, come on!"

Sanosuke stepped over the threshold, laying his eyes on the patient for the first time. This time, despite the grimace of pain deforming his face, he recognised him immediately. It was Ishikagi Uchisada. It was the man he had seen Saito with.

Kenshin emerged from the soko in time to see Sanosuke carry someone to the dojo. His head hurt too much to care. It didn't matter anyway; they all were too busy to notice him standing in the darkness. Or so he thought. He had just witnessed Kaoru running on the length of the engawa with some linen when Yahiko came walking towards the well, Kenji in his arms. He noticed Kenshin and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh… Kenshin."

Kenshin nodded, unable to speak. The boy's voice wavered. Suddenly, after much hesitation, Yahiko handed him his son.

"Are you… Can you… Are you well enough to take care of him?"

Still bewildered by his recent anxiety attack, Kenshin reached out for his son by reflex rather than by design. The little one mumbled something in his sleep, yawned and snuggled against his father's neck. Yahiko, with a look that said "that'll do" on his face, rushed to the well. Kenshin observed him plunge the bucket in and out of the water, pour its content in a basin and run towards the dojo. Alone in the silence of the courtyard once again, Kenshin looked down at his son. Sometimes, especially after his episodes, he had a hard time reconciling himself with the fact that the little boy was his. Kenji's small body against his was a jarring manifestation of the present, an incongruent intrusion against the bloody memories of the past. Ignoring the commotion in the dojo, he took his son to bed, fully intending to sleep himself but knowing very well that lying awake while staring at the ceiling was what awaited him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Gedatsu

A tousled but wide awake Murata-sensei showed up at the dojo accompanied by Saito less than thirty minutes later. The policeman had obviously put the fear of god in the poor doctor who got as far away as possible from him as soon as he could. Megumi quickly filled him in the details. The patient would need an emergency appendectomy. Immediately, Murata-sensei protested.

"This surgery is dangerous even under the best of circumstances. Performing it on the dirty floors of a dojo is madness!" he exclaimed then turned to Kaoru. "No offense meant."

She shook her head.

"Sensei, I have taken it upon myself to save this man. I can probably do it alone but I would rather do it with you," said Megumi, calmly.

The older man shook his head.

"Can't we at least transfer him to your clinic or some other facility…"

Saito stepped in closer. The doctor cowered.

"This can't be done anywhere else. Secrecy is of the utmost importance. Do you understand me?"

Murata-sensei acquiesced. There was a glow in the policeman's eyes that chilled him to his core.

"I will see that you are generously compensated," the tall man added.

Megumi took the doctor's bag and guided him up the stairs into the dojo where Sanosuke had been keeping watch on the patient. Kaoru turned to Saito.

"You better have a really good reason for this," she said cooly. Without awaiting an answer, she followed after the doctors, leaving the policeman alone in the night.

"I agree with her," said a voice behind him.

Hajime turned around to find himself face to face with his old nemesis.

"You look like Hell," said Saito.

Kenshin shifted his hands inside his yukata and crossed his arms. He walked passed the man to the engawa and sat down. His head still hurt. As predicted, sleep had eluded him.

"And you think you look your best, Wolf?" replied Kenshin, slightly annoyed.

Saito clicked his tongue.

"Touché…"

He leaned against the post of the engawa and lit up a cigarette. His hands shook. This didn't escape Kenshin. Saito was aware of it. He took a long drag.

"Still, why the long face?," he asked, trying to sound casual as he exhaled smoke.

Kenshin stared at him as if to say "do you really have to ask?"

Saito pinched his lips. Yes, he'd hear of this maladie of the mind. He'd even seen a few of his current coworker suffer from it. Personally, it had never affected him. Even now, he still believed in his motto: aku, zoku, zan. He took another drag of his cigarette.

"I thought domestic bliss had cured you of all…" he made a vague gesture with his hand, "those."

He raised a questioning eyebrow at Kenshin.

"Let's cut the crap. How about we discuss what in Hell is going on in my dojo?"

Taken aback, Saito couldn't help but smile. The man was out of sorts, wasn't he… He felt the old urge to mess with the man for a moment but it quickly faded away.

"My, my, such a foul mouth," he teased, halfheartedly.

Saito took a few steps away from Kenshin, calculating. How much of the truth would he need to tell to make this convincing enough without having to incriminate himself? He turned around. Kenshin's sharp gaze followed his every move. He sighed. Obviously, only the whole truth would do. As he made this realisation, a long cry of pain was heard from the dojo. The policeman tensed. It took all his strength to remain in place.

"Who is that man?" asked Kenshin.

Saito startled and turned back to his old enemy as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes had softened. The fatigue aside, the kenkaku was slowly returning to his gentler Meiji self. The policeman's shoulders slumped with resignation. He took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and crushing the last embers with his boot. He looked Kenshin straight in the eyes.

"What I'm about to tell you is confidential. Should it escape these walls, it would cost me this peaceful life I have built for myself."

Kenshin nodded. He knew the feeling. He still steered clear of Kansai as much as possible. Saito continued.

"But more importantly, it could completely destroy the reputation of the man inside the dojo."

Kenshin raised an eyebrow.

"I never knew you to be one to care about anyone but yourself," he said.

"I wonder where you got that information," replied Saito with a smirk.

The Ishin man and the Shinsengumi wolf exchanged knowing smiles. Saito grew serious anew.

"You can never tell anyone what I'm about to tell you," he said.

Kenshin cocked his head to the side.

"You seem to forget, Saito Hajime, that I, too, was in the trade of keeping secrets."

"Then I take it mine will be safe with you."

"I have but one condition," replied Kenshin

Saito raised an eyebrow.

"Kaoru-dono, Megumi-dono, and Sano… They will ask questions..."

Saito shook his head.

"I can't. It's too risky for him."

Kenshin stared at the policeman. Something in his deportment had slightly shifted as he'd uttered the last sentence. He perceived a softness where there had been none before, a chink in the armour, or so to speak. The realisation suddenly hit him. This was so obvious. There had been rumours about the Shinsengumi back in the Bakumatsu, but he had never been one to listen to idle chatter with much interest.

"Aren't you afraid they'll connected the dots by themselves? This could be much more dangerous..." said Kenshin, testing his theory.

Saito stared at him for a moment. Then, he sat down next to him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his face and sighed.

"Fine. But please kept the details to yourself…" muttered Saito as he sat back up, avoiding the other man's gaze.

"Of course. I'm not terribly interested in them myself..."

Saito glared at him.

"But I think that in the circumstance, it'll keep your mind busy and help you while away the hours." _And distract me_ , he thought.

He lifted one knee and hugged it to his chest, his foot resting on the engawa. What era had this turned into that he and his old enemy should have this kind of conversation? He shook his head.

"Now, Saito Hajime, how about you tell me of this man who has managed to blunt the fangs of Mibu's Wolf?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Jayanagi

The man in your dojo is kabuki actor Ishikagi Uchisada. I met him a few years ago. His sister had gone missing and the police investigated. I wasn't involved, but when they discovered the girl and her lover dead in Atami, Kawaji asked me to go tell the family. They were a respected Kabuki clan and the powers that be trusted me to keep the whole affair quiet. So I did what I was told but I wasn't happy about it. You know me, I don't do tears and sympathy. Dead people are dead; no amount of crying will fix that. Anyway, I went to their house and it was empty. So much so that it was Uchisada himself who opened the gate. He would tell me later that he'd known from the moment he'd seen me that it was going to be bad news but he hid it well. He is an actor, through and through.

I stepped over the threshold into the courtyard and was about to announce the news when he invited me in. I was taken aback. No one ever invites us in, especially not highly famous families who don't want their name soiled by the police. So I stammered an answer. He smiled. I followed him.

We sat in a spartan room with a view on a well tended garden. The sun was low in the sky and filled the space with gold. He served me tea. He never once broke the silence. I would later learn that this was one of his most interesting characteristics. This man, who made a living talking, never allowed himself to be defeated by talking first in private. Uncomfortable, I finally cleared my throat.

"I'm afraid I bring you sad news."

He looked at me with his pale brown eyes, sizing me, studying me.

"Your sister and her lover were found in a ryokan in Atami."

"Jinshu," said Uchisada.

I nodded. He set his tea cup on the coaster and stared at the garden for a long time. The sun had gone below the horizon, plunging us in the fading twilight. I drank my tea down, hoping to be on my way as soon as possible.

"I am sorry for your loss," I said. I cringed at my awkward, stilted words.

"It was meant to happen."

He turned to me, a wistful smile on his lips.

"We all knew it. I warned my father. But he let it happen. And here we are."

He got up. I did, too. He made me nervous. I didn't think that even was possible anymore.

"When can we fetch…" his voice trailed.

"Tomorrow."

"We will send someone. Thank you, Special Agent Fujita."

He bowed deeply. I bowed back.

He walked me to the door and I thought this was the last of him I would ever see.

The very next day, Kawaji called me to his office. I didn't think anything of it; something or other had happened in the world that would need my attention. However when I opened the door, I found him in conversation with two guests. Assuming I was early, I made to walk away when he noticed me and invited me in.

"Special Agent Fujita, this is Ishikagi Tsuru."

One of the guest, a kimono-clad woman with greying hair turned and bowed to me. I bowed back.

"And I believe you've met her son, Ishikagi Uchisada?"

I turned to the second guest in surprise. He gave me a polite bow. I reciprocated.

"They are here to retrieve Ishikagi Tamako's remains."

The woman flinched at the word but expertly regained her composure. Uchisada's expression remained neutral. I turned to Kawaji with an inquisitive frown.

"Could you please escort them to the morgue?"

I must have betrayed my annoyance somehow because fear suddenly flashed across my superior's face.

"Ishigaki-sama praised your tact and efficacy during your visit at his domicile and expressed the desire that you should be the one handling all the details of this unfortunate affair," managed Kawaji.

I turned to Uchisada again. He remained impassive but for a small crinkle at the corner of his eyes. For reasons I couldn't understand, this man had decided to play me. I smiled inwardly. As you know, I can't refuse a challenge.

"Of course. If you're all done here I will take you to the morgue," I said, in my best Meiji era courteous Fujita Goro voice.

I hate the morgue. It smells of old death. It's usually the first thing that gets me when I find myself there, the clinical stench. For some reason, however, this time what got my attention when we entered the room was that they had made the mistake of setting both bodies out. This normally would have been the least of my concerns, but Uchisada had kindled something inside of me and I was on high alert. I immediately interposed myself between both the table. Lady Ishigaki managed to remain composed and dignified until the morgue attendant pulled the white sheet. As soon as she saw her daughter's face, sobs escaped her body and she prostrated herself over the young woman. Uchisada stood at a distance staring straight ahead, his mouth a hard line. I noticed that his neck and ears were reddening. I turned away, fearing our eyes might meet. I found myself looking at the deceased's face. She had soft features, a delicate nose and prominent cheekbones. Even in death, her lips were plump. She looked very much like her brother.

I don't know how long they stood there, him quiet and her crying, but eventually, Uchisada's mother calmed down and walked out of the room without a word. I followed her with my eyes then glanced at him. He was staring at me. I had felt his gaze on me the whole time I had watched his mother. He remained quiet.

"Shall I call someone?" I asked, cursing myself for being the one to break the silence once again.

He shook his head.

"Could I see his face?" he asked.

For a moment, I didn't understand what he meant. Then I quickly turned around and glanced at the other body behind me.

"Of course," I replied.

People seem to find satisfaction is seeing the death mask of the people they believe have robbed them of their happiness. The request didn't strike me as odd, although I found it strange that he hadn't even spared a glance for his sister.

The attendant long gone, I removed the sheet from the man's face. He looked generic, the kind of person you wouldn't notice in a crowd. Uchisada gingerly made his way to the other side of the slab. He stared at his sister's lover for a while. I noticed his fingers gripping the side of the table. His shoulders trembled ever so slightly. I suddenly realised that I had been looking at this whole situation from the wrong angle. I willingly broke the silence.

"I will be waiting in the hallway. Take your time."

Those kind words felt odd to my ears. It had been years since I had even felt the need to be truly kind to someone. I didn't wait for Uchisada's response. I walked out and posted myself at the door. I stood alone in the dark and deserted basement hallway for a long while. Then, I heard it. At first, he tried his best to keep it quiet, but that kind of grief can't be tamed. Soon, his sobs echoed in the tiled silence. I clenched my firsts, forced to think of a time, long ago, when I, too, had suffered a devastating loss.

NOTE

Jinshu is Japanese for double love suicide.

I haven't mentioned it yet, but the chapters a named after the most famous kabuki plays in history.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Kagekiyo

Saito sighed. Those last words had slipped out before he could stop them. How out of character... He reached for his sleeve and fished out a cigarette. He put it between his lips, then, thinking better of it, took it back and fiddled with it. He strained his ears, trying to catch any noise from the dojo but it remained silent. Kenshin shifted next to him.

"That loss…" started Kenshin.

He waited to see if the other man would interrupt him. He didn't.

"Was it Okita Souji?" he finished.

The policeman nodded.

"So the rumours were true…" Kenshin remarked.

Saito let out a small laugh.

"I guess it depends on what the rumours were."

"I wasn't one to listen to much of anything, back then," he admitted. "But some stories lingered long enough to make it to my ears."

"And what did the stories say?"

Kenshin turned to face the other man.

"That you and Okita were an item."

"I see," said Saito before turning away, his gaze lost in the darkness of the courtyard.

"I don't doubt they said much more about went on between the two of us?"

Kenshin shrugged.

"Possible. As I said, I never was really interested in the private lives of others. I had enough on my plate as it was."

They remained silent for a while. Saito finally put the cigarette back between his lips. He lit it and took a long drag. The embers glowed in the darkness.

"To set the record straight, there was never anything between Okita and me. I…" he paused, looking for the right word. "I _cared_ very much for him, but let's just say that he wasn't of the same persuasion. I never overstepped my bounds, but his death only made the defeat of the bakufu harder to swallow."

"I'm sorry," said Kenshin.

"Thank you."

Silence

"So this Ishigaki, I assume he is of your… persuasion?"

Saito nodded.

"Aren't you…?" he started, hesitantly.

Kenshin turned to the face the policeman, an eyebrow raised. Was he truly looking for his approval?

"Am I what?"

"You know…"

Saito made a vague gesture of the hand.

"The usual..." he couldn't believe he was actually asking the battosai about this.

"Disgusted? Shocked? No. Why should I be? I've seen enough bad in this world to know when something is good and harmless. Does what I think really matter to the Wolf of Mibu?"

The policeman stared at him then burst into laughter. This definitely wasn't the appropriate moment for mirth but he just couldn't help himself. This whole scene was simply too surreal. Kenshin soon joined in the laughter. When they finally calmed down, Saito continued his story.

After the scene at the morgue, I was convinced that this time, I had truly seen the last of Ishigaki. Yet, one morning, which I would eventually come to realise was the first day out of his mourning period, I showed up to work only to find him standing at one of the windows in my office, his back to me. I came really close to attack him. It was early, too early for any of the staff to have even been around, let alone for some civilian to have been ushered in my office. Moreover, I had only ever seen him wearing traditional clothing. In his Western accoutrement, I barely recognised him.

He turned around as soon as heard me. He took off his hat and bowed slightly in salutation.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, hand still on the hilt of my sword.

Realising that I had once again broken the silence, I sighed, annoyed.

Despite my obvious anger, he didn't cower before me. On the contrary, he walked up to me and extended his hand like foreigners do.

"I wanted to express my thanks to you," he said, in a serious yet oddly cheery voice.

I ignored his extended hand and walked passed him to my chair. I did not sit.

"There is nothing to thank me for. Just doing my job," I mumbled.

"Indeed," he said in the same voice and came to sit across from me. I chanced a glance at him, trying my best to hide the fact that his presence agitated me. He grinned.

"A textbook response from a reputable member of the police force," he said, insisting on the reputable.

I narrowed my eyes. Something was amiss.

"Where is this going?" I asked.

He leaned forward.

"Oh, nowhere. Just wanted to thank a reputable agent of the law for helping a reputable and famous kabuki actor to have closure following the death of his sister."

I smirked. I had misread him again. He was much cleverer than I would have given him credit for. He smiled knowingly.

"Your gratitude is appreciated," I replied.

His smile widened. He rubbed his hands together and stood up.

"Marvelous! I will be on my way then."

He put his hat on and walked to the door. When I assumed he would walk out, he stopped and turned around.

"Special Agent Fujita, I almost forgot to tell you. You will find a token of my appreciation on the upper right drawer of your desk. Good day!"

He tipped his hat and was out before I could reply.

He pulled the drawer in question open. Atop important case files lay a single wooden kabuki ticket. I picked it up and flipped it over. A small piece of washi had been attached to the back. On it, a date and a time had been inscribed in a beautiful hand.

Had he simply handed me the invitation, I wouldn't even have bothered going. However, I know needed to ask him how he had broken in a reinforced drawer, to which only I had the key.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Kamahige

Two days later, I attended the performance in question. I can't remember what the title was. To be frank, I had never given kabuki much attention until then and that is how it would have remained had I not encountered Ishigaki. I had an excellent seat, almost in the front row. I felt out of place and considered leaving but decided against it. The play was surprisingly interesting. I didn't recognise him immediately in his onnagata costume. He played really well, or at least I think he did. When the whole thing ended, I lingered outside the playhouse. Although he hadn't said anything of the sort, some part of me expected him to show up. He didn't. I waited for an hour in the rain. I left when they blew out the torches. I was disgruntled and annoyed. I resolved to put the whole thing behind me; Ishigaki had other plans.

For the following six months, I found wooden tickets in my drawer. I had the locks on the desk changed twice, yet he always managed to break in. I grew increasingly angry at him, but if I'm completely honest, I was mostly angry at myself. Each time I saw a play, I waited. Each time, I was stood up. And I kept going back. I don't know if he was testing me, if this was an audition of sorts, but I guess I eventually passed.

One night, as I waited outside the playhouse, a young boy came up to me and handed me a piece of paper. On it was an address for a small but very popular izakaya near the Senso-ji. The place was dimly lit with many nooks and crannies. As soon as I showed up, I was escorted upstairs. The young waitress kneeled and opened the shoji to reveal a small tatami room. To my surprise, Ishigaki wasn't alone. An older gentleman sat with him. Very close to him. Actually, had they been any closer, the actor would have been sitting on the other man's lap.

I stepped in. The door slid shut behind me. I could tell from his rubicund face that the old man hadn't expected company and that he was very displeased to see me there. He looked very familiar but I couldn't quite place him. Ishigaki was all smiles.

"Who is this?" asked the geezer, breaking the silence.

The actor got up and walked up to me in a way that reminded me of his stage feminine demeanor. He grabbed me by the arm and guided me to a cushion on the far side of the table. He sat next to me, his arm still hooked in mine.

"Fujita Goro, meet Kanadera Souzaburo."

With the name, the man's identity came back to me. He was a small fry politician who'd gotten mixed up in some bribe scandal.

" Fujita-san is a policeman, Sou-chan." The words were said with a smile yet carried a barely veiled threat.

The man tensed visibly. He drank his sake in one gulp and stood up, rearranging his clothes.

"Tell your father he has a deal. But this is the last time.

Avoiding to look in my direction, he walked out of the room, slamming the shouji so hard it felt like the whole building shook. Ishigaki's face instantly changed from charming to serious.

I glared at him.

"What was this about?" I asked.

He gave me a surprised look, as if he'd momentarily forgotten about me. He relaxed his expression and shook his hand in front of his face.

"Don't you worry about that. Just some business transaction for my father."

He leaned over the table and grabbed two ochokos and a bottle of sake.

"Let's drink to the completion of your basic kabuki education," he said, with a grin.

I stood up. By that point, I was doing all I could to contain my rage.

"You'll excuse me but I don't appreciate being used as a pawn in other people's schemes."

It turned to go.

"You vex me, Saito Hajime," he said, emphasizing my name.

I clenched my fists.

"Do not presume to use that name against me. I don't know where you've acquired your information but if your source was as good as you seem to believe it was, you already know what happens when one crosses the Wolf of Mibu. Don't contact me again."

Without even sparing him a glance, I walked out. I wandered most of the night, fearing I might destroy my lodgings should I go straight home.

Kenshin chuckled.

"Seems like he had you wrapped around his finger."

Hajime took one last drag of his cigarette and crushed it under his boot.

"Definitively. Although I would have rather died than admit it. I don't think anyone had ever made me that angy. Not even you."

He poked Kenshin in the arm. Kenshin smirked.

"I made you angry?"

Saito rubbed his chin.

"Back then? No. But recently? A lot."

He gave Kenshin a sly smile. Himura laughed and shook his head.

Sure enough, a week later, a kabuki ticket made its way to my drawer. I ignored it. The night of the performance came and went. A few days later, I got another ticket. I ignored it again. The thought of giving it away crossed my mind but I wanted that empty seat to stare him in the face. Explaining where I had acquired such a good seat and why I was giving it away would have been a pain anyway.

After that second ticket, I didn't receive anything. I thought he had finally tired of his game. I felt a little too smug about that victory, which is probably why a week later, Kawaji came in to my office to invite me to a kabuki play. I tried to refused but ultimately, I couldn't. Ishigaki had outsmarted me, once again.

I attended the performance with the firm intention to leave as soon as it was over. It wasn't to be. It turns out that Kawaji is a big kabuki fan. Ishigaki had arranged for him to go backstage after the show and meet the actors. I was to go with, of course. It turned out to be pretty instructive, but not for the reasons most people would enjoy such a visit. Work had never taken me to a playhouse, so I remembered every detail possible and stored them for later. In the end, I didn't even interact with him. I was a little bit disappointed. I love a good chase and I was looking forward to seeing what his next move would be.

As soon as we exited the theatre, I reached for a cigarette, only to find that my pack had been replaced by a thick bundle of paper. I unfolded it and found a small key inside with an address. It was nearby so I decided to check it out.

I walked through the narrow streets and found myself in an unassuming neighbourhood. The door was rather hard to find, partially hidden in a side alley. It took me a few tries to get the lock to turn in the darkness. When I finally got the door to open, it revealed a steep staircase. There was light at the top, filtering from a shouji. The memory of my last adventure was fresh enough to make me wary. I listen but couldn't hear any voices. I climbed up.

Once on the landing, I hesitated a moment. What was I doing? I debated whether to stay or to go and finally opted for the former. I knocked on the frame of the shouji.

"Anyone here?"

"Come in," replied Ishigaki.

I slid the door open. The actor sat in a small six mat room only furnished with a table and a futon which was folded neatly in one corner. The walls were unadorned, the only window closed. Ishigaki wore hakama and a hakamashita. He was warming his hands over a hibachi.

I closed the door. There were no cushions so I sat on the floor.

"I knew you'd come," he said. There was a twinkle in his eyes.

I stared at him. I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't quite know what I had been expecting would happen.

"What is your pleasure?" I asked, more sarcastically than I hoped to be.

He looked at me, trying to read me. He patted the mat next to him.

"Come closer. This room isn't really nice in winter. It's warmer here."

I obliged; it was cold. I stretched my hands over the hibachi. Without warning, he took my right hand in his. He observed it, finger by finger, taking note of every scar, every callus.

"Your hands are so rough. I've met with plenty of ex-samurai, none of them had hands like yours."

I pulled my hand back in my lap. He gaze at my eyes, maintaining the connection for a length of time that would have meant death during the Bakumatsu.

"You're a good man, Saito Hajime," he said.

I snorted.

"I know quite a few people, dead and alive, who would object to this statement," I replied.

He shook his head.

"Their loss."

Saito stopped his story. What followed only belonged to Uchisada and him. He remembered how the man had reached for his hand again and, this time, had brought it to his lips. First, his kisses had been light, tentative. He had looked over Saito's hand for approval. Seeing no resistance beyond the initial surprise, he'd kissed his hand more avidly. Soon, they had closed the distance between them and found themselves locked in a passionate embrace, their mouths exploring with ardor, their hands searching for the best anchor to pull the other closer.

Saito was brought back to reality by the sound of footsteps in the courtyard. Sanosuke looked exhausted. There was blood on his trousers.

"It's done," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Kanjincho

Megumi stood by the door of the dojo, her hair covered by a headscarf, her apron speckled with dark stains. She gave the men a tired smile.

"Murata-sensei is still with him but it's pretty much done," she said.

"How did it go?" asked Kenshin.

She shrugged.

"As good as surgery can go when performed on the floor of a dojo," she replied.

"Will he live?" asked Saito.

She glanced inside then back at them.

"There were no complications, so that's good. We did all we could but this isn't an operation room. If infection should set in…"

The policeman lifted his hand, interrupting her. He's seen enough wounds during the war to know what could happen.

"Can I go in?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Yes, but you will have to stay back a little. I will come to check in on him from time to time, but you're not to touch him."

"Understood."

Saito took off his geta. Kenshin followed suit.

"I'll stay with him. I doubt I can sleep anyway," she said.

Megumi gave him a sad look. At least he wouldn't be alone, she thought. She couldn't possibly take care of him as well right now.

"Remember what I said; no touching."

As she said the words, Murata-sensei came out of the dojo. He looked exhausted. Saito bowed.

"Thank you, sensei. I will make arrangements for the payment."

The doctor waved his hand, annoyed.

"You can thank me if the man lives."

He turned to Megumi.

"I will forget tonight's events. Should you call on me like this again I will report you. Good night."

The man walked down the stairs, slipped on his shoes and walked away without even bothering to tie them up. Kaoru, who happened to be bringing a pail of water, insisted on walking him to the gate despite his protests.

"My apologies, Takani-san. I'm afraid I might have compromised your position," said Saito.

She stared at him with surprise for a second then smiled.

"Don't worry. The man is the best, but he knows it and that makes him a bit of a prick. Getting an apology from you was well worth the risk of losing his good opinion."

She winked.

"Ok, I'm off to bed. Sanosuke, wake me up in two hours."

"What?! I'm exhausted. I can't stay awake to wake you up."

She glared at him. His shoulders slumped.

"Alright, alright…"

"Good night, gentlemen," said Megumi as she walked away, Sanosuke in tow. "And remember, no touching!" She added, over her shoulder.

"You'd think she would trust us, knowing who we are," commented Saito.

"She knows exactly who we are," replied Kenshin," and that's why she doesn't trust us."

The dojo smelled of antiseptics and blood. It reminded Hajime of the morgue. In the middle room, on a futon surrounded by a few lanterns, lay Uchisada. He was covered to the neck by a thin white sheet. Saito walked up to him while maintaining more than an arm's length distance from his sleeping companion. He kneeled by his head. His skin was pale. Sweat pearled on his forehead. He longed to card his fingers through his long black hair.

Kenshin sat against the wall. Truth be told, he was feeling pretty tired. His episodes always left him drained and he would have given anything to go curl up in his futon with his wife and his son at his side. He yawned behind his hand.

He realised he must have fallen asleep when Saito slumped down next to him, startling him awake.

"You should go to bed," said the man. "I can stay here on my own."

Kenshin shook his head.

"It's fine. Plus I wouldn't mind hearing the rest of the story."

Saito gave him a weird look.

"Surely you don't mean…?"

Kenshin frowned.

"What?" His face suddenly expressed utter horror. "Gods, no! No. I don't mean _that!_ "

"That's a relief," Saito chuckled.

He rested his gaze on Uchisada's sleeping form.

"There isn't that much to say. After that initial visit, I went back to that room several times. He gave me that key. As far as I know, he never invites anyone else there."

"So he does somewhere else?"

Hajime nodded.

"That one deal he had me walk in, it wasn't just for show. It seems that his father has his hands in many things. Young kabuki actors are a rare commodity. Ishigaki tells me it's been the way of their family for many generations."

Saito wasn't naive enough to believe that nothing went on between Uchidasa and those men. He didn't like it but he had to accept it. His companion's father had no qualms about selling his sons to the highest bidder but he knew would never accept one of them having a homosexual relationship.

"That isn't all. He is to be married soon. The only daughter of a rich merchant; she's meant to inherit a little fortune."

Kenshin suddenly felt closer to the actor. He had often felt he had no control on his life during the Bakumatsu. He had been at the beck and call of the Ishin for most of the war.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Saito sighed. More than the other men, this part bothered him the most.

"It was to be expected. Our kind is not looked upon favourably, especially in this new era."

Indeed, thought Kenshin, the West had not only brought technology and modernity to Japan.

"Anyway. He didn't wait long to tell me that having me wait for him all those times and making me walk on on that deal had all been a test. At first, he'd seen it as a game, a distraction from his previous flame, but he eventually grew serious. He became afraid that I would use him to get information for the police."

"I take it he doesn't only deal with the small fry?"

"Correct. His father's reach is quite impressive. He wanted to make sure he would be able to talk to me freely. Turns out that the man who died with his sister had been an operative for one of their clients. They'd try to double-cross his father and used Ishigaki as their way in. However, he eventually discovered what he was up to. The man, fearing for his life if he failed, kidnapped Ishigaki's sister and fled. Unfortunately, the patriarch had no love lost for his daughter and didn't pay the ransom. What was presented to the police as a love suicide turned out to be an execution. We still don't know if the client or the Ishigaki patriarch called the shot."

"That's quite an interesting position for a special agent to be in," remarked Kenshin.

Hajime rubbed his forehead.

"Tell me about it. Sometimes stuff ends up on my desk that I have to pretend to be surprised about when I know very well who pulls the strings. However, Ishigaki sometimes gives me permission to use my knowledge, which usually turns raids into a lot of fun."

"Aren't you afraid you're being used, too?" Kenshin asked.

"I thought about it. He did get that information about my past from someone. There is always a small possibility that this is all for someone's benefit. But after 4 years, I'm willing to take that risk."

They remained silent for a while.

"Did you figure out how he accessed your drawer?" Himura suddenly asked.

Saito chuckled.

"He never confessed, but I think he has someone at the precinct in his pocket. Someone had been giving him the keys."

 _Outside, a fine rain had started to fall. They'd left the window open to better hear the song of the river. The earthy smell of autumn had grown stronger in the dusk. On the table, the cards of their unfinished game of utagaruta remained untouched. Uchisada was asleep on his side, facing him. His thick hair was fanned across the pillow, as soft as silk. Hajime, propped on his elbow, looked at his lover's face. His features were so delicate yet the beard he had allowed to grow over the last few days gave him a more masculine figure._

 _For the first time, they'd managed to escape together for an entire week. The onsen wasn't luxurious and it was far from everything, but they were completely alone save for the owner. He presumed Uchisada had pulled some strings but the man had refused to tell him anything about it._

 _He leaned forward and kissed him on the nose. Uchisada opened his eyes and closed them again. He stretched._

" _I was dreaming," he said sleepily._

" _About what?"_

" _The Bakumatsu. I was a Shinsengumi member, under your orders. We had a lot of steamy sex." He smiled._

" _We wouldn't have had much time for that," he replied._

" _You're so unimaginative, Hajime."_

 _He shrugged._

" _My imagination saved my men countless times."_

 _Uchisada peeked at his companion under heavy lids._

" _You were much more fun in my dream," he teased._

" _Is that so?" asked Hajime, getting closer to cuddle his lover._

 _He buried his nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. Uchisada made it easier to forget that he had been on the losing side of the war._

Saito woke up with a start. Kenshin was shaking him.

"Wake up! Something's wrong!"

His eyes went to Uchisada. The man was moaning, turning his head left and right. Saito ran to his side. To Hell with the stay away directive! He touched his companion's forehead. It was burning.

"Get Takani!" he yelled.

Kenshin was already running down the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Kanu

Megumi ran up to her patient. She touched the man's forehead then lifted the sheet that covered him. Ishigaki shivered. Gently, she removed the bandages that covered his wound. The skin around his stitches was red and puffy. She turned to Sanosuke who had followed.

"Wake Tsubame up. I need her to go grab some herbs and medicine at the clinic. Bring her around, I'll tell her what I need. Also bring my bag, I have to redress his wound."

Sanosuke ran out of the dojo. Megumi turned to Kenshin.

"I need you to get water and linens."

"On it."

She looked at Saito, still seated by Uchisada's head. She was surprised at his calmness.

"You've seen this before."

He nodded.

"Then you know what to do until I get the medicine."

Suddenly, she reached out to him hand grabbed his hands in hers.

"I will not let him die. I promise."

Surprised and touched, he nodded anew.

Kenshin walked in and Megumi let go of his hand. She immediately grabbed the pail of water and dipped a piece of linen in it. She handed it to Saito.

"Please try to keep him cool. Kenshin, come with me. We have some preparation to do."

They left for the kitchen, leaving him alone with Uchisada.

Megumi had applied a poultice to his wound and changed his bandages. She had administered a herbal concoction to bring the fever down. Now she lay asleep in a futon in one corner of the dojo. Kenshin had gone to bed. So had Sanosuke. They had laid a futon for Saito in the dojo, but he simply couldn't sleep. He dipped his cloth in water, wrung it, and dabbed his lover's forehead. Over and over. From time to time, he would get up and go to the well to get fresh water. Every time, he worried that something in Uchisada's condition would change while he was away. Every time, it stayed the same. He remained feverish, his head trashing weakly this and that way. He sometimes mumbled unintelligibly. Saito had half a mind to call the other doctor back but he knew that he couldn't do anything more than Megumi. So he waited.

xxxxxxxx

Dawn came without any change. Saito had nursed many a man in this manner during the war. More often than not, death had been the end result. He tried to convince himself that everything would be alright, that modern medicine surely would save his lover, but deep down, he knew that this was wishful thinking. One didn't negotiate with death. He was so lost in thoughts that he didn't notice Megumi at his side. He started when she reached for Uchisada's forehead.

She frowned.

"He's still burning up. I'll have to go to the hospital to get some supplies. You should get some sleep."

He shook his head.

"They expect me at the station today…"

Megumi gave him a disapproving doctor's look.

"Is this wise? You've barely slept."

Saito shook his head.

"I was due back in Tokyo today. Ishigaki was supposed to stay away for a few more days. I can't risk it…"

She nodded.

"Will you send someone for me if…"

He daren't finish the sentence. She nodded.

"I will send Sanosuke if there is any… change," she finished.

xxxxxxxx

Saito looked himself in the mirror. His haggard and disheveled self stared back at him. The last 48 hours had been a true nightmare. A raid on a gambling den that should have been routine had turned into a hostage situation, dragging most of the force in a standoff that had lasted the better part of the last two days. He had had to force any thoughts of Uchisada to the back of his mind lest he lose focus. However, now that the whole thing was over, a tsunami of worry had crashed over him. He'd gone back to the station, hoping to be told that Sanosuke had come by but no messages had awaited him. After debriefing Kawaji, he'd headed for the public bath in a daze. He should probably have gone straight to Himura's place but something had held him back. He pushed his wet hair away from his eyes. He couldn't delay anymore.

The gate was open. He stepped in and walked to the dojo. He was surprised to see young men practicing kendo where, only two days earlier, Uchisada had lain between life and death. His chest tightened when he saw Kaoru standing by the door, a hand over her mouth, tears flowing from her eyes as Megumi spoke to her with a sad expression on her face. Something had happened. Something horrible. He resisted the urge to turn away and run. If Uchisada was dead, he would take responsibility. He walked passed the dojo into the yard, looking for Kenshin or Sanosuke. He jumped when he felt someone tapping him on the shoulder.

"Fujita-san," said Yahiko. "This way."

The young man pointed towards the back of the house. In his anguish, Saito couldn't read the young man's expression. His heart pounding, he followed Yahiko. They had almost turned the corner when he heard laughter. Saito stopped in his tracks. Yahiko failed to notice and walked on. He waited. He heard it again. He would have known that laughter anywhere. It was Uchisada's. Saito's vision blurred. His knees buckle under him. He caught himself on a post and wobbled across the yard to the soko where he hoped nobody would see him in this state.

He leaned his forehead on the wall, his left arm above his head. His heart beat so hard he feared it might jump out of his chest. Uchisada was alright. He was alive. He was alright. His body slowly relaxed. The soreness he suddenly felt in his shoulder and neck revealed how tense he'd been in the last few days. He couldn't help but laugh. He set his back against the wall and slid to a seated position laughing all the while. His body trembled as fear left him. Before he could stop them, tears of relief started to roll on his cheeks. He hugged his knees and bowed his head down. He had never been so afraid to lose someone, not even during the bakufu.

He'd been crying for a little while when he felt a presence next to him. He lifted his head slightly and chanced a sidelong glance. Tsubame sat next to him. She smiled and offered him her handkerchief. He took it and wiped his face, slightly embarrassed.

"He woke up yesterday morning. For a long while Megumi worried that the fever would take him but he fought on. He asked for you a lot."

The thought of Uchisada calling out for him made fresh tears roll from his eyes. He patted his eyes and apologised. She shook her head.

"We moved him to a proper room this morning. You should come and see him," Tsubame said.

He hesitated.

"Kenshin and Sanosuke aren't around. Ishigaki-san is playing with Kenji."

He stared at the little woman. It seemed that her quiet ways had taught her to read people.

He crossed the yard once again. He noticed that Kaoru was now seated on the engawa, Megumi patting her back.

"What happened?" he asked.

Tsubame glanced at the two women.

"One of the students broke his wrist. He will probably never yield a sword again. He's the son of a smith. He was supposed to take after his father..."

Saito cursed under his breath. Unbeknownst to them, the women had tricked him into thinking Uchisada had died.

They took off their shoes and climbed up the engawa. Tsubame lifted the sudare. Seated against the wall and propped up by cushions and pillows, Uchisada smiled as he and Kenji threw a kamifusen back and forth. The boy noticed Saito and ran to Tsubame, clinging to her legs. Uchisada's eyes fell on him. He looked tired but he had some colour back.

"I'll be in the kitchen should you need anything," said Tsubame before excusing herself.

"Are you just going to stand there?" asked Uchisada, breaking the silence for once.

He shifted positions and grimaced. Saito all but rushed to his side. The actor laughed.

"I'm alright. I'm alright," he said, extending his hand in front of him.

Saito sat next to him and took his hand in his. He daren't do anything else for fear to be seen or hurt his lover. Uchisada gave him a long look.

"Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?" he asked, with a smirk.

Saito ignored the question.

"I told you this would happen. Those cramps weren't normal," he chastised.

Uchisada shrugged.

"Things turned out fine. Just like I told you."

Saito was too tired to get angry. He laid down on the floor, his head resting against Uchisada's thigh. His lover pet his hair gently.

"You could have died," he mumbled as he slowly fell asleep.

"But I didn't," replied Uchisada.

"You never listen to me."


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 _Meiji Year 33 (1900)_

Sanosuke knocked on the ajar door. He didn't wait for an answer and walked in. The office hadn't changed much throughout the years. It was as tidy as ever. Saito pored over documents. His composure was unchanged. Sanosuke couldn't help but being impressed.

"They're done," he said.

Saito didn't look up.

"Cause of death?" he asked.

Sanosuke clasped his hands behind his back.

"Multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen."

Saito finally looked up. Although, just like his office, he hadn't changed much, Sanosuke couldn't help but notice the dark circles under the man's eyes and the new lines across his forehead. This case had taken its toll on everyone.

"His face?"

Sanosuke tensed.

"A shallow slash across the cheek. A little longer than Kenshin's."

With his fingers, he traced the wound across his own face.

Saito looked at the clock. Seven.

"I assume the family will come for the body tomorrow."

Sanosuke nodded.

"Thank you, Sagara. You can go home now. This story will keep us busy for a while. Better rest while you can."

Sanosuke bowed and made to exit. He hesitated a moment in the doorway, his hand on the doorknob. He glanced back at Saito. The man was already back to his files. He took a breath to speak.

"Don't," said Saito before he could even say anything. "There hasn't been anything between us for over 2 years now."

Sanosuke had assumed as much. But surely… He shook his head and left the room.

When Saito looked at the clock again it was passed nine. He stood up and massaged the back of his neck. At 56, he was still fitter than many of the new recruits yet tonight, he felt the years weigh down on him. He had half a mind to go straight home and forget about it all but things weren't that simple. Uchisada's father had taken his shady business too far down the opium trade rabbit hole. Despite his best laid plans, the whole thing had soon come crashing down after his death; his sons simply didn't have what it took to sustain the arrangements. The police had been investigating this case for nearly a year now. Saito had known that it would eventually come to this. After all, two of the older Ishigaki brothers had already been assassinated. The scandal had shaken the kabuki world, destroying the family's reputation.

He arranged the documents on his desk and pushed his chair. He looked around the office for something else to tidy. He knew he was playing for time. He sighed. He wasn't sure what he hoped that would accomplish. He shook his head. Better get this done with.

The corridors were mostly empty but he did cross path with a few constables on the ground floor. They saluted him. All these fresh faced men had no idea what people like him had had to go through to make this country what it was today. He felt a twinge of jealousy.

The sound of his boots echoed on the marble steps leading to the morgue. He remembered the time he had taken Uchisada down there. Although he could now see his breath in the dimly lit underground passage, he still remembered the heat of that day and the damp coolness of the hallway in which he had silently watched over the man's grief. How beautiful and young he had been then. So full of energy and mischief.

Saito stopped at the bottom of the stairs and rubbed his left knee. He couldn't remember when the cold had started to bother him. Uchisada would have known. That is, young Uchisada would have. A few years into his marriage, the man had taken to opium. Saito had tried to make him stop but all his efforts had been futile. Under the pretense of "sampling the merchandise" the kabuki actor had slowly but surely slipped into addiction. As his mind had become increasingly muddled and addled, their relationship had petered out. Over the span of a few years, their meetings had become fewer and farther apart. Whatever had been left of it had burnt down at the same time their secret meeting place had about two years prior. Saito still wondered if Uchisada had set fire to the building himself.

There had been no tears, no wrenching heartache, just the sudden realisation that what had once been was no more. In a way, he wished that Uchisada had pushed him away for a younger lover or even his wife. That way he could have been angry. That way, he could have grieved. Watching the drug destroy him had been far worse, only he hadn't realised it at the time. He wondered how his wife had felt.

Saito pushed the door of the morgue. The smell of chemicals and death assaulted his nose. The gas burnt low. He made to adjust it then changed his mind. He closed the door. A corpse covered by a white sheet rested on the slab. He walked up to it and uncovered its face. He gasped. Uchisada's once round face was gaunt, the skin taut on his cheekbones. The drug had aged him so much Saito wondered if he would even have recognised him had he seen him in the street. The slash on his cheek didn't exactly make him look better either. Against all odds, his lush mop of hair hadn't changed. Saito slowly carded his fingers through it, his mind awash with memories.

He rolled the sheet down to the man's hips. Three stab wounds. The cuts were clean. He hadn't struggled. Not a surprise, of course; he had been killed in an opium den. Saito's eyes lingered on the thin white scar on the right side of Uchisada's lower abdomen. Things had been so much simpler back then. He wondered what the Kenshingumi would make of all this. He wondered if it wouldn't have been better to let him die all these years ago. He shook his head. Ruminating over this wouldn't change what was.

He covered the man's body again, leaving the head exposed. Looking around, he found a stool and brought it close to the slab. He sat down and from his pocket, he took out a pack of cigarettes. He pinched one between his lips and lit it. He returned the pack to his pocket.

"We've come full circle, I guess."

His voice bounced on the tiles of the empty room. He sighed and took a long drag from his cigarette.

"I told you this would happen."

Saito wiped a tear that had escaped his eye. He snorted.

"You never listen to me."


End file.
